SHAMELESS PLUG!

My first original novel, Strangers In Boston, is now available on Amazon under my pen name, T.S. Mann (get it?). It's free to Kindle Prime members and $4.99 to people who want to download the Ebook. Paperback copies are available for $12.99. Check it out, and if you like it, please leave a review. Basically, it's American Harry Potter. Except there's no school, no wands, and if you use magic improperly, it can drive you insane and possibly destroy the world. No pressure or anything.

We now return you to your regularly scheduled fanfic.

Harry Potter
and the Death Eater Menace

Harry Potter and all associated characters and situations are the property of J.K. Rowling. I make no claim to ownership.

Chapter 45: Redux (Part 2)

A conference room in the DMLE
27 March 1994, 4:20 a.m.

James Potter struggled not to yawn as he made his way into the conference room. He'd been awoken by a Potter house elf twenty minutes earlier and told that his presence at the Ministry was needed urgently. And so he'd quickly forced down both a Pepper-Up and a Sober-Up while pulling back on the rumpled uniform he'd left lying on the floor a few hours earlier. He and a few co-workers had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for Happy Hour the previous evening for an early celebration of his birthday, and he'd had perhaps one too many. The potions would cure that, but he worried a bit about the state of his breath. That worry intensified greatly when he found Fudge, Bones, and Umbridge waiting for him along with the entire senior staff.

"Well, what's got us all out of bed so early?" he grumbled.

Amelia merely looked at him disdainfully, but the Minister was jubilant.

"Why, a miracle, Chief Potter!" he exclaimed. "A verifiable miracle! And we owe it all to Senior Auror Thicknesse here!"

"… we do? Could you perhaps … expand on that?"

James was rather nonplussed at the praise directed towards Pius Thicknesse. The man had been a good Auror if a bit stolid, but he'd not been James's first choice for the open Senior Auror slot created after his own promotion to Chief Auror. Not that James held a grudge over that time in Third Year when "Thicky McThickhead" had hexed him into the Infirmary for two days over a harmless prank. But Amelia had vetoed James's preferred nominees, and Cornelius had a soft spot for Pius due to a stint as one of his personal guards, so Senior Auror "Thicky" it was.

"Senior Auror Thicknesse," Amelia said with asperity. "Would you please repeat your summary briefing for Chief Potter's benefit."

"Yes, Director," Thicknesse said professionally. "Yesterday afternoon, I received a communication from a trusted confidential informant who provided a tip regarding the possible location of Fenrir Greyback and his pack. Acting on this information, my team Apparated to the coordinates provided – an abandoned farmhouse near Dunny-on-the-Wold in Suffolk – and set up surveillance. While the tip itself was accurate as to the time and location, it was incorrect in one important detail. The provided location was not the base used by Greyback but rather his next target. It turns out that the farmhouse was, in fact, the base of operations for the individuals responsible for the July 31, 1993 Azkaban break-out. It seems that the werewolves had learned of this location and were planning to attack it in order to free the Death Eaters who were actually being held prisoner there by the very people who broke them out of jail!"

"What?!" James exploded in shock.

"Let the man finish, James," Fudge chided.

Thicknesse coughed politely in response to the glare Potter was now giving him. As Scrimgeour had predicted, the Chief Auror was angry at not having been brought into the loop earlier. Pius continued his report.

"Just before midnight, Greyback's entire pack, in the company of an unidentified wizard in a Death Eater uniform, Apparated to the same area and immediately summoned the Dark Mark over the house before commencing an attack against its wards. I made the command decision to first call for back-up and then intervene. As a result of fine work by the Aurors and hit wizards under my command, all the werewolves were either captured or killed with no injuries or casualties on our side, though the Death Eater unfortunately escaped. Apparently, he or she was an unregistered Animagus who transformed into a rat that was too small for us to target from the air."

With that last remark, James had a brief coughing fit, and he quickly reached for a glass of water as Thicknesse continued.

"We then turned our attention to the farmhouse, but before we could enter, there was a small explosion inside. This was apparently caused by a modified Portkey of the same type used to escape Azkaban, and the three individuals we had detected inside the farmhouse were able to flee despite being under the Anti-Portkey Jinx imposed by the Dark Mark! But more important was what they left behind: the comatose bodies of Rabastan Lestrange, Rodolphus Lestrange, and Augustus Rookwood; a corpse positively identified as belonging to Bellatrix Black-Lestrange; and a set of Pensieve memories that … well, I believe they speak for themselves."

Thicknesse nodded to one of the Junior Aurors who stood beside a Pensieve with a projector function. The Auror tapped his wand to the Pensieve which began to emit a bright light and the whole room changed around them.

"Amelia and I have already seen this, James," Fudge said somewhat pompously. "For everyone else, as Minister, I declare this information to be covered under the Official Secrets Act, and it is not to be discussed outside this room until an official statement is released later today. The memory has been confirmed as joint memories taken simultaneously from the Lestranges and then merged. The Unspeakables are still working to confirm that it has not been tampered with, but for now, we have no reason to doubt its authenticity."

Those assembled now found themselves in a nondescript room gathered around a small table. On one side sat the Lestrange brothers. On the other sat two individuals who James recognized (as the result of a months' long investigation) as Muggle actors Elke Sommer and Burt Kwouk. Nearby, Auror Michael Proudfoot looked sick at the sight of the woman (if indeed she was a woman) who'd seduced him as part of the Azkaban plot. The two began to read from a prepared statement, alternating paragraphs between them.

"Our names are not important. All you need to know is that we are here to correct an injustice."

"We are the children of a man you may know as Marcellus Frump. That was not his true name, for he was a Metamorphmagus who concealed his status as such from the British government to avoid Conscription. He was from a Pureblood family, but not a Noble one, though he thought by serving You-Know-Who loyally, he could win such status for his family."

"To that end, he took the Dark Mark and became a secret Death Eater, using his powers to spy for You-Know-Who and to cause dissension and confusion. He served in a Death Eater cell along with Bellatrix, Rodolphus, and Rabastan Lestrange. Narcissa Malfoy was also a willing participant, though she did not go on raids. While he committed many crimes as a Death Eater, including framing Sirius Black for his crimes so that he could flee the country, our father repented of his sins later as he was dying of an untreatable magical illness. His last request was that we somehow find a way to exonerate Sirius Black."

James sputtered loudly at that, but Amelia shushed him.

"To that end, we have engaged in a plan several years in the making. We discovered that Gilderoy Lockhart, who was set to become the new Hogwarts DADA instructor, was a criminal who had used Memory Charms to steal the achievements of genuine heroes in order to improve his own reputation. We blackmailed him into helping us, but when we learned he was responsible for the petrification attacks, we forced him to confess to his crimes and Obliviate himself with the Tabula Rasa curse. We learned the Tabula Rasa from an Australian wizard who supported our goals and who somehow mastered the curse without swearing any oaths not to share it."

"Afterwards, we made use of research performed by students – at Lockhart's direction but really for our benefit – to develop a plan to free Sirius Black from Azkaban and prove his innocence."

The two memory-speakers shook their heads violently, and their faces changed from those of Kwouk and Sommer to James Potter and Cornelius Fudge. Rather amusingly, Minister Fudge was still wearing the dress that Elke Sommer had worn. Fudge grimaced in embarrassment at the sight, while Proudfoot looked physically ill. James seethed as he regarded his own doppelganger.

"In these forms, we freed the Lestranges and Augustus Rookwood and then took them to a secret location for interrogation. We extracted memories from the three Lestranges that will confirm Black's innocence. As you will see in one of the memory extracts, the Death Eaters had access to a potion Augustus Rookwood stole from the Unspeakables that conceals the effects of Memory Charms. This was used to make James and Lily Potter falsely believe that Sirius Black was their Secret Keeper when it was actually Peter Pettigrew. We confirmed this from the memories of the Lestranges. We were unable to break the will of Rookwood, so we kept him in a comatose state for the duration of our work."

"It is our hope that he is irreparably insane as a result of his captivity."

"We were aided in our effort by a third sibling who was also a Metamorphmagus and who impersonated Auror Michael Proudfoot at Azkaban. Sadly, there was a breach in our security. Bellatrix Lestrange briefly escaped and killed our brother before being slain herself. We have Bellatrix's body in stasis. You will find her corpse along with the two Lestrange Brothers and Rookwood and these memory vials."

"Sirius Black is in a safe location recovering from his ordeal. He will be released when the Ministry acknowledges the truth: that he never had a trial and was falsely imprisoned. The trial transcript that sent him to Azkaban was actually from the secret trial of our father, who was captured before the destruction of You-Know-Who and interrogated under Veritaserum. He was freed by unknown DMLE employees either bribed or Imperius'd to do so, and then Narcissa Black-Malfoy, under the name Ariana McFlossy, seduced Herbert Cattermole and persuaded him to falsify the trial records so as to convict Sirius Black instead. We do not know her reasons for framing Black, but we assume she wanted him dead in disgrace so that her newborn son Draco might someday inherit the Black estate. Narcissa later murdered Cattermole while they were on their 'honeymoon' on the island of St. Cyprian. A copy of the McFlossy-Cattermole wedding certificate carrying Narcissa Black's magical signature will be included with the memory extracts. What we have told you about the McFlossy-Narcissa Black connection can be confirmed by speaking with the Chief Auror on St Cyprian."

"Naturally, if the British Ministry refuses to give Black a new trial and a chance to clear his name, we will instead help him to escape to another nation that has no extradition treaty with wizarding Britain, but we hope that once you see the evidence collected, you will do the proper thing."

At that, the memory ended, and the observers found themselves back in the conference room. By now, James was livid.

"What is this utter nonsense?!" he spat in a fury. "Of course, Sirius Black was our Secret Keeper!"

"Chief Auror," Amelia interrupted firmly. "The memory extracts found at the farmhouse are … extensive. Several of them that we have already observed show an individual matching the description of Peter Pettigrew meeting with the Lestranges to discuss his efforts to insinuate himself back into your good graces as a spy in the months prior to You-Know-Who's attack on your family. And others show the individual who purports to be 'Marcellus Frump' revealing himself as a Metamorphmagus who regularly posed as Sirius Black in order to get close to Wizengamot members and place them under the Imperius Curse."

"This is insane!" James shouted. "There was a trial! Black confessed to everything under Veritaserum!"

Then, from the doorway, someone coughed to draw everyone's attention. And to the surprise of those present, it was Albus Dumbledore.

"I do apologize for the interruption, but I couldn't help but overhear your discussion on account of the fact that I was listening to every word."

"Albus!" Fudge exclaimed. "You're supposed to be in Paris at the ICW!"

"I was. But I received a message about these shocking developments and thought that as Chief Warlock, I should be here in case I was needed. I plan to return to Paris as soon as possible, but if I am detained here, I'm sure Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman can handle the negotiations in my absence. And as it happens, I believe I can shed light on the matter of Sirius Black's so-called trial."

"So–called trial?" Director Bones inquired.

"Yes. Rufus Scrimgeour is presently acting as Hogwarts' Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he has chosen to incorporate the history of the Death Eater movement into his lesson plans as part of the general topic of defending against dark wizards. A student assigned to review Sirius Black's career as a Death Eater discovered an interesting irregularity in his trial proceedings."

"What sort of irregularity?" asked Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"At the time the trial was supposedly held, all three of the judges were deceased."

The entire room went completely silent.

"Yep," Shacklebolt finally said. "That's an irregularity alright."

"I can also add that I ordered a search of the records for anyone named Marcellus Frump," added Thicknesse. "There was a very large file opened on him in October of 1981, but at some point, the contents were removed by persons unknown. Analysis indicates the empty folder itself has definitely been there that long."

By this point, James looked completely shell-shocked, and Dumbledore spoke up.

"Cornelius, Amelia, could I perhaps speak to James in private? There's something he should know that relates to these affairs, but it is rather … sensitive."

"Of course, Albus," the Minister said before gesturing for James to follow the old man from the room. Outside, the Headmaster set up a privacy Charm.

"Albus …!"

"James, listen to me. I know this is hard for you to accept, but I now have very strong reason to believe that your memories as to the identity of your Secret Keeper may indeed have been altered."

"Impossible! I handle Remembralls all the time! Surely you don't believe that nonsense about a magic potion that hides Memory Charms?!"

"James," Albus said as he withdrew a potion vial from inside his robe. "That potion does exist. I am quite familiar with it. And this is the antidote. If you wish to know the truth, take it."

Now quite pale, James stared at the vial. "And if I'm not under this potion?"

"It will have no effect on you."

James thrust his jaw forward defiantly before snatching up the vial and tossing the contents back.

"Okay, I drank it. None of my memories have changed."

"Of course not, James," Dumbledore said almost sadly. "The potion only reverses the magic that hides the alterations from Remembralls."

With that, he held out his hand to James. And there was a tiny glass orb in his palm. James stared at the Remembrall almost in fear. Carefully, he reached out to take it.

It instantly turned red.

Moments later, Dumbledore reentered the conference room.

"I, er, hope none of you mind, but I advised James to go home. He is a bit overwhelmed by these revelations. But you should know that I have confirmed the allegations in the memory extracts that James's own memories about the Potter family Secret Keeper have been altered by use of an Unspeakable potion. I have just given him the antidote, and the false memory is now detectable by a Remembrall. I cannot predict how long it will take for the Remembrall to restore a true memory after so much time – perhaps a day, perhaps as long as a week – but at the moment, I fear he is too emotionally compromised to be of much use to the investigation."

Fudge waved his hand dismissively. "Oh, I quite agree. Terrible shock, I'm sure. Luckily, young Thicknesse here seems to have things well in hand."

Thicknesse nodded politely in response to the praise. Around the room, several of the other Aurors discretely looked to one another as they all contemplated the political ramifications of the last few hours.

"Relatedly," Albus continued. "In light of this new evidence, might I recommend that we rescind the Kiss on Sight order for Sirius Black? At least until the evidence is thoroughly vetted by the Unspeakables?"

"I agree," said Amelia. "We should also bring in Peter Pettigrew and Narcissa Black for questioning. Though, obviously, I would hold off on any formal accusations until after we've heard from them given the alarming number of Metamorphmagi running around. It wouldn't do for the Ministry to compound the errors made in the Black case."

Fudge nodded. "Quite so. Anything else?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "I should be very grateful if you removed the Dementors presently floating next to my school and returned them to Azkaban immediately."

"Yeeeess," Fudge said slowly. "Bit of a hiccup there, I'm afraid, Albus. We can't withdraw them until we've refilled the vacant cells in the Maximum-Security Wing at Azkaban. And the Unspeakables have requested that we delay returning the Lestranges and Rookwood to Azkaban until they have had an opportunity to examine them and see if this Tabula Rasa thingy has actually done its job, especially in the case of Rookwood. They also registered some concerns as to how Dementors will respond to prisoners with no personalities at all."

"Hem-hem." Dolores Umbridge nervously raised her hand. "Might I propose a compromise? In addition to the four Death Eaters, we also have Fenrir Greyback and three members of his pack. All of them are wanted for a variety of Azkaban-worthy crimes, and between their limited rights as werewolves and your powers as Praetor Maximus, I believe it would be permissible to sentence them immediately to Azkaban without a formal trial. That would satisfy the occupancy requirements that concern us and also have the benefit of getting four dangerous werewolves off British soil and into secure containment before tomorrow night's full moon."

Fudge's face brightened. "A capital idea, Dolores! Get me the paperwork, and I'll get those filthy beasts sent off at once! With luck, Albus, we can then get those Dementors removed before breakfast!"

The Office of Saul Croaker
Soon after …

There was a soft knock at the door before Albus Dumbledore entered the office of the Voice of the Unspeakables.

"Saul, my dear fellow. I hope I'm not intruding."

Croaker crooked an eyebrow. He and Albus went way back, but neither man was big on social calls. And given what was scheduled to happen at Hogwarts the next day ….

"Not at all, Albus. Though it's looking to be a very busy day indeed. But when we last spoke, you said you'd be in Paris for the Tournament negotiations, didn't you?"

"As I told Cornelius," said Dumbledore as he slid into a chair, "I'm quite sure Barty Crouch and Ludo Bagman can handle the negotiations in my absence."

The Unspeakable snorted. "Barty Crouch is the sort of man who might start an international incident if he doesn't like the seating chart. And Ludo Bagman is the sort of man who might accidentally sell the whole of Britain to the French in exchange for a bag of magic beans and a sickly cow. What can I do for you, Albus? I'm quite busy right now, as I'm sure you know."

"Oh, I know quite well, Saul. I just wanted to pop in and see how your department was coming along with its analysis of the memories recovered by the Aurors this morning."

Croaker's eyes narrowed. "Why?"

"I am Chief Warlock, Saul. Am I not entitled to take an interest in seeing justice done fairly?"

The Unspeakable stared at Dumbledore as if trying to read his mind. Giving that up as an impossibility, he shrugged.

"There are a few … oddities to the memories. They may be nothing. Or they may be signs of fakery. We'll need more time before we can say definitively."

"I see. Well, my friend, I shouldn't spend too long in your analysis. I think the public is crying out for a sense of closure and finality in these affairs, and events are moving very quickly now." He tilted his head slightly. "Tempus fugit, as they say."

Croaker gave no visible sign that the phrase had any special meaning. But he did stare at the Headmaster for quite a long time before speaking again, and the other man returned his gaze just as intently.

"Yes … well, I suppose the … minor inconsistencies we've found are probably nothing. Certainly not enough to justify a delay in giving the Minister the assurances he wants."

"Splendid! I'll let him know your report is on its way soon."

Croaker nodded. "I'm still planning on … dropping by the school on Friday. Will you be there?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I honestly have no idea, Saul. I suppose we'll both see what Fate has in store over the coming days, won't we?"

Potter Manor
5:00 a.m.

"PETER! PETER! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU!" James Potter continued to scream into the mirror his closest friend had given him many years before. But there was no reply.

The Apartment of Yvette Dubois
5:30 a.m.

The pretty young secretary swiftly pulled on a robe over her satin pajamas as she raced to the door to see who was knocking so forcefully and at such an ungodly hour. She threw open the door and was shocked to see her employer, Peter Pettigrew, standing in the hallway of her apartment in muddy clothes and looking very much the worse for wear. In his hand was a hefty carpetbag.

"Sacre bleu!" she exclaimed, her surprise drawing her French accent to the surface. "I mean, what is eet, Monsieur Pettigrew? Whatever 'as 'appened?"

"Something dreadful, Yvette," the man said gravely. "I'm sorry to come to your home at such an hour, but I need your assistance quite desperately."

"But of course! Come in, come in."

The solicitor entered the flat, and Yvette closed the door behind him. He stepped over to the nearby dining table and dropped the carpetbag onto it. While no sounds emerged from it, the rough fabric of the bag began to shift, as if there were some living thing squirming about inside it. Or perhaps many living things.

"Um, Monsieur Pettigrew? Forgive me, but … what ees in ze bag?"

Peter smiled as he raised his wand. "Yeah, that's sort of what I need your assistance with. IMPERIO!"

The Great Hall
Breakfast

As the students of Hogwarts waited impatiently for breakfast to be served, they were (for the most part) surprised by the presence of Headmaster Dumbledore, apparently back early from his ICW meeting in Paris. Indeed, only one student in the entire room was not surprised by said appearance, as he'd been the one to summon Dumbledore the night before. The Headmaster rose and tapped his spoon against a glass to draw everyone's attention.

"Good morning, students. I have a few announcements to make. While the Daily Prophet will undoubtedly explain things more thoroughly and in lurid detail, I wish to be the first to inform you that the Dementors who had been our undesired guests these many months have been withdrawn and are on their way back to their post at Azkaban."

Immediately, the students erupted in loud applause.

"The reason for this withdrawal is simple: the prisoners whose escape from Azkaban led to their presence here were themselves captured early this morning by several courageous Aurors and other DMLE personnel. Furthermore, I am happy to announce that the werewolf pack of Fenrir Greyback which attacked Hogsmeade last October has also been brought to justice. I deeply regret that you all had to suffer the unpleasantness of the Dementors' presence and, worse, the horror of the werewolf attack. And so, considering these positive developments, I am allowing a special school treat. First, classes for today and tomorrow are cancelled."

Even wilder applause.

"Second, in the aftermath of the Halloween attacks, many of our students who would otherwise have been eligible for Hogsmeade privileges have not been permitted them. To celebrate the conclusion of the Azkaban crisis, the Ministry has declared that tomorrow will be a day of celebration in Hogsmeade complete with a speech by the Minister of Magic, and we will be holding an unscheduled Hogsmeade Visit for all students, regardless of year, to allow you to observe."

The applause turned into outright cheers. Then, as if they'd been waiting on the Headmaster to finish his address, a large flock of post owls flew in through the open windows and delivered a special edition of the Daily Prophet along with the morning mail. The blaring headlines confirmed the Headmaster's announcement with all the bombast one might expect from the paper.

DEATH EATER MENACE ENDED THANKS TO BRAVE AURORS!
DEMENTORS TO BE WITHDRAWN!
IS SIRUS BLACK INNOCENT?

The accompanying front page story was every bit as exciting as the headline promised. Rita Skeeter covered the fight between the Aurors and the werewolves and also presented a glowing interview with Pius Thicknesse which promised to make the Senior Auror a national hero. Andrew Smudgely tackled the tale of the Azkaban escapees and the strange story of Marcellus Frump and his shape-shifting offspring. Smudgely's article also touched on the apparent innocence of Sirius Black and included a plea from Minister Fudge for Black to turn himself in so that the claims made in the memories could be verified and he could be fully exonerated. To Harry's annoyance, the article did not specifically mention either Peter Pettigrew or Narcissa Malfoy by name, though Auror Thicknesse did mention in his interview that one person in Death Eater robes accompanied Greyback's pack and that Aurors had suspects who were being sought for questioning.

As the news circulated through the student body, no one noticed as Jim Potter took a small envelope from a very small owl and stuffed it into his pocket to read later. Likewise, no one noticed that at one point during breakfast, the Headmaster made eye contact with Harry Potter from across the room for several seconds, after which the boy nodded once before returning to his meal.

Meanwhile, at Nott Hall …

"Marcellus Frump?!" Tiberius Nott exclaimed in complete confusion. "Who the hell is he supposed to be?!"

Rogo, the Death Eater's long-suffering house elf, had no answer for his master. Nor were any answers to be found in the dozen or so households across the country where wizards and witches who had been acquitted of serving the Dark Lord on falsified Imperius defenses were reading the same newspaper article with equal bewilderment.

Later, in the Headmaster's office …

As soon as breakfast was done, Harry deftly avoided all his friends and quickly made his way to the Headmaster's Office. After he gave the password ("Jelly Babies"), the gargoyle allowed him up the staircase. Dumbledore called out "Enter!" before the boy could even knock.

"Good morning, sir," Harry said genially once inside the office. "I take it last night was a productive one?"

"I suppose that's one word for it. The Dementors are gone, and the Azkaban Crisis appears mostly resolved. However, both Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew are still at large, and one of them was the former Secret Keeper who betrayed your family in 1981. Also, and perhaps relatedly, I seem to have misplaced my Caretaker. Can you shed any light on that?"

Harry winced. He had rather callously used Remus Lupin in order to draw Pettigrew into a trap. But it seemed clear that Pettigrew had no interest in harming the werewolf who he truly considered a close friend. Most likely, Remus was still in Pettigrew's custody and still under Draught of Living Death. And if Pettigrew wasn't captured first, Harry had an unpleasant suspicion as to where the man might be found later.

"Not currently, Headmaster. But I'm confident that he's safe and will come to no harm."

Dumbledore nodded slowly.

"I may hold you to that, Mr. Potter. So … is there anything else you require of me? I understand the constraints you are under as we discussed briefly last night in your room."

Harry considered the question even as he recalled that very interesting conversation.

The previous night in Harry's room
1:15 a.m.

It had been only a few minutes since Harry had sent his Patronus to Paris in order to deliver a message to Albus Dumbledore. Idly, he wondered how long it took Patronuses to travel when used for this purpose. The answer was apparently "not long," as Harry realized when a brilliant golden bonfire erupted at the foot of his bed! After a second, the flames receded to reveal Dumbledore himself, still in a bathrobe haphazardly pulled on over a flannel nightgown, with Fawkes perched on his shoulder.

"Good evening, Mr. Potter. Or perhaps I should say, good morning!"

"And, uh, good morning to you, Professor," Harry said after regaining his composure. "Thank you for coming so swiftly."

"Of course. Though I hope the events in play justify this late-night journey." The old man hesitated for a moment. "Then again, perhaps I hope they don't. Regardless, your Patronus – and a most impressive specimen it is, by the way – said only that 'some things have happened back here in Britain' that demand my attention."

"Yes sir," said Harry.

"You also said 'tempus fugit.' May I ask why you used those particular words, Mr. Potter?"

"Because you told me once that if I ever really truly needed you, I should send a Patronus message to you using those words."

"Ah. Did I now. And when, may I ask, did I tell you that?"

"Tomorrow morning, sir."

"Of course. How prescient of me." Dumbledore shrugged, apparently taking that answer in stride. "Very well. Mr. Potter, please tell me as clearly and succinctly as possible: What do you think I should be doing right now? And what, if anything, should I not be doing?"

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise at those questions. He'd had a feeling that the seemingly all-knowing Headmaster would, of course, know something about the Time-Turner based on their last conversation in the prior timeline. But Dumbledore's words seemed to imply greater knowledge than Harry had anticipated, as well as noticeable caution about using his influence to change things. The boy considered the questions carefully.

"Well, I think the most pressing business is at the Ministry. You see, most of the Azkaban escapees have been captured, but …."

Dumbledore's Office
The Present

Harry considered the man's question and started to respond. Then, he stopped suddenly before he could utter a single word. Dumbledore stared at him expectantly. Harry stared back. Then, Harry tried again.

"I don't think your continued presence here in Britain is needed right now, Headmaster," he finally said in an unusually deliberate voice.

Inwardly, Harry fumed. He personally thought there were quite a few things the Headmaster could help with since Pettigrew was still at large. If nothing else, Harry did not relish the thought of facing a raging werewolf again. But the impulse, the urge, to send the Headmaster away was too strong. For some reason, now that Dumbledore had put his imprimatur on the Marcellus Frump hoax and effectively cleared Sirius, the magic of the Time-Turner wanted him gone.

Dumbledore nodded. "I still have a meeting with your mother. Your father has already taken the antidote to the Unspeakable's potion, and the Remembrall I gave him will restore his memories soon. I will persuade Lily to do likewise. She may wish to speak to you and Jim about it sometime thereafter."

The boy's eye twitched slightly. His relationship with Lily was much better than James by far, but he really had too much to do right now to get drawn into Potter emotional drama.

"After that," Dumbledore continued. "I shall return to Paris and hopefully rescue our negotiations from whatever disaster Crouch and Bagman have wrought."

"Good luck, Headmaster," the boy said.

"And to you, my boy. Though I fear you may need luck far more than I."

Peter Pettigrew's Apartment
9:40 a.m.

It had been several hours since Peter abandoned his apartment after leaving a "welcoming present" for Sirius Black. But it was not Black who arrived at the apartment first. Instead, it was a squad of five DMLE hit wizards. The term hit wizard was a neologism, with "hit" standing for "Hazardous Incident Team." Hit wizards were ordinary field agents for the DMLE, as opposed to the far more prestigious Auror Corps. While not a precise fit, a Muggleborn might be forgiven for comparing hit wizards to ordinary beat cops and Aurors to MI5 or the American FBI. And while hit wizards are generally brave and effective law enforcement agents, the fact remains that all Aurors are expected to have a minimum of five NEWTs at EE or higher while hit wizards are merely expected to have five or more OWLS with passing grades and no requirements for NEWT-level education.

All of which explains why it is no slight against a hit wizard to note that he is often completely unprepared to face a truly dangerous dark wizard.

After the knock at the door went unanswered, the hit wizards kicked it in and entered the apartment searching for Pettigrew. And so focused were they on looking for any sign of the wizard, they did not even consider other possible dangers. One of the hit wizards moved around the coffee table in the living room. To his credit, he was not so foolish as to touch the tin box that Pettigrew had left behind for Sirius Black to find, but unfortunately, only proximity was required. The crank on the side of the box began to turn itself, and the soft sounds of the last five notes of "Pop Goes the Weasel" played.

The hit wizard turned towards the source of the music just in time to see the lid pop open. Instantly, a "snake" made of ratty green cloth over a coiled spring shot out with a loud "BOING!" It had a cartoonish face with large comical "googly" eyes that spun wildly. The snake's emergence startled the wizard, causing him to shout an expletive and alerting the other hit wizards who moved closer.

And then, in an obnoxiously high-pitched voice, the snake began to laugh.

"Ho-ho-ho-ho-HEE! Ho-ho-ho-ho-HEE!"

"What the h-hell is th-th-is, hehehe!" the lead wizard tried to say before being overcome by a fit of giggles.

"It's s-s-s-some kind hahaha of curse hahaha!" said a second hit wizard as her mouth stretched into a broad grin that belied the sudden fear in her eyes.

Another hit wizard tried to disable the snake-in-a-box with a spell. "F-f-finite Incanta-HAHAHAHA!"

The closest wizard lashed out with his arm to knock the box off the table. It landed on the floor several feet away but continued to bray in obnoxious mirth.

"Ho-ho-ho-ho-HEE! Ho-ho-ho-ho-HEE!"

By now, all five hit wizards were under the sway of one of Erasmus Wilkes's infamous "toys," and as one, they all dropped to their knees and then all the way to the floor, incapable of any actions save clutching their bellies that were already aching from their uncontrollable hideous laughter. And they would continue to howl in terrified amusement for quite some time, long after the enchanted box itself went silent. Long after the strain on their throats had rendered their laughter as silent as it was hysterical.

And long after their commitment to St Mungo's.

Hogwarts
The Great Hall
10:30 a.m.

"Hey Marcus!" Harry called out to his friend. The boy had been waiting near the front entrance for five minutes, and Marcus Flint was right on time.

"Morning, Harry. What's up?" asked Hogwarts' only Eighth Year student as he looked around at the students milling casually in the halls. "I, um, read the Prophet this morning…?" he began uncertainly.

"Then, I'm sure you know that the missing Death Eaters minus Sirius Black have been recovered by the Ministry," Harry responded quickly. "One less thing for us to worry about, I guess," he added pointedly.

Marcus nodded. "Good news. So, what's everyone doing out of class?"

"Classes are canceled today and tomorrow. Of course, with the Dementors gone, I don't even know if they're going to continue with Patronus lessons anyway, but you're definitely free for today."

Marcus's face lit up in a smile. "Awesome! I'm heading to London this weekend for the holidays. This means I can get a jump on packing."

"Going alone?" Harry asked innocently.

Marcus blushed. "Not that it's any of your business, Potter. But I'm going with Emily Rossum. Perhaps when you're older and more mature, you'll understand such things."

"Oh, you'll find I understand all kind of things. I'm very knowledgeable for my age. Speaking of which, why don't you go pack now and then head up to London this afternoon!"

Marcus looked at Harry suspiciously. "And why would I go up to London ahead of schedule when I don't even have a place to stay up there until Saturday?"

"Because if you go to London today and drop by my solicitor's office, you might find he has something for you."

"What kind of something?"

Harry shrugged. "Most likely a round-trip Portkey for you and a guest for a two-week stay at a luxury hotel in Le Quartier Magique in Paris."

Marcus's eyes goggled in surprise. "Uhhh … what?!"

"Marcus, you've been a friend since I was a Firstie. I heard through one of my many and varied sources of information that you and Emily were getting closer, and I want to do something nice for you both."

"Merlin, Potter! I mean, I'm grateful, but you didn't have to do that!"

"No, but I wanted to, and I can afford it. But I'm afraid you'll need to pick up the Portkey today or I've wasted all that money for nothing. So, I'd be very grateful if you'd get out of here now."

The two Slytherins continued talking for a few minutes, and Marcus was clearly touched by Harry's generosity. For his part, Harry was just relieved when Marcus finally accepted the gift that would ensure he would be well away from Hogwarts grounds as soon as possible. And as a jubilant Marcus Flint headed back out the front doors with a spring in his step, Harry mentally checked another item off his "to-do list."

The Third Floor of Hogwarts
Near the statue of Gunhuilda of Gorsemoore
12:30 p.m.

Hidden beneath the Potter Invisibility Cloak, Jim looked around to make sure no one was nearby before casting a quick Tempus. Then, following his godfather's instructions, he tapped his wand against the hump on the statue of an ugly witch that adorned this hallway and whispered "Dissendium." The statue slid to one side, revealing a passageway through which a brown rat quickly scampered.

Jim, who had never seen Peter in his Animagus form, grimaced. "I hope you're really Uncle Pete and not just an ordinary rat. I don't want to get fleas."

The rat squeaked an indignant response, and a disembodied arm appeared in midair from underneath the cloak to carefully pick it up. Soon, the arm and the rat disappeared again.

A few moments later, Jim ducked into an empty classroom, whipped off his cloak, and gently placed the rat on the floor. A second later, Pettigrew stood in its place.

"Well done, Sport!" Pettigrew said as he pulled his godson into a warm hug. "I'm very proud of you!"

Jim snorted. "All I did was open a passage, Uncle Pete. It wasn't that impressive. But can you please tell me what's going on? Is Sirius Black innocent? But Dad says he was our Secret Keeper!"

Peter placed a reassuring arm on the boy's shoulder. "I can't tell you everything, Sport, because I don't know everything. Have … have you been in contact with your father? Has anyone talked to you … about me?"

The boy shook his head in confusion. "No. What about you?"

"Jim … sport. You know I love you, right? As if you were my own?"

"O-of course, Uncle Pete! But what is it? Tell me what's going on!"

"I will, sport. But first, I need to …." Peter gasped suddenly and looked over Jim's shoulder at the door on the far side of the room. "What's that?!" he whispered urgently.

Jim turned quickly but saw nothing. Then, he turned back to his godfather… just in time to see the flash of red.

"STUPEFY!"

The Corridor leading to the Divination Classroom
2:45 p.m.

"Dooooom!"

Trelawney placed her hand over her mouth in shock. "Oh, my dear child. Yes, yes, of course. You cannot ignore your Inner Eye when it gives warnings of such clarity. You dare not. And now that you mention it, I too can see the tendrils of fate whirling about you, warning of the same dangers that you have seen."

"Thank you for understanding, Professor," Hermione said with as much sincerity as she could muster.

"Honestly, I don't know how Harry and Blaise do it!" she thought to herself.

"Good luck to you, Miss Granger."

With that, Sibyll Trelawney turned and headed on to the ladder leading up to her classroom, while Hermione turned away, relieved at last to have that complication to her life over with. But then, before she'd gone more than a few feet, Trelawney suddenly called out to her again.

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione turned back to see Trelawney, now with an odd unreadable expression on her face.

"Yes, Professor?"

The woman took a few steps towards her while looking around as if to make sure no one was listening in. Then, she slipped her glasses down and looking at her over the rim.

"Miss Granger … just between us … are you truly… truly … a Seer?"

Hermione was taken aback by the question and by the intensity of the look Professor Trelawney was giving her. To the girl's surprise, it was the most alert and thoughtful expression she'd ever seen on the woman's face. She bit her lip before answering truthfully.

"I … don't think so, Professor. I'm sorry, but I really don't think I am."

Trelawney nodded. "I thought not. But … has it helped you? That so many people thought you might be? Has it … made some things easier?"

Hermione furrowed her brow at the unexpected question. "I … maybe, in some ways."

The older witch sighed almost in relief. "Good, good. And, for what it's worth … I'm glad you're not a Seer. Not that I would be jealous. No, no, not at all. It's just that …."

She pulled off her thick glasses and rubbed them nervously with her shawl while she struggled for words.

"I … I drink … a lot, you know?"

Hermione was speechless at the unexpected confession.

"I know I shouldn't but … it stops most of it from getting through. When I was younger, it happened all the time. Trivial things mostly, but it just never stopped. But now, if I drink enough sherry – and act foolish enough, I suppose – it leaves me alone most of the time."

"… I'm … sorry to hear that, Professor," Hermione said slowly as she was completely unprepared for this odd conversation.

"Thank you, my child but … it is what it is. Now, run along, my dear. And good fortune to you!"

"Er, thank you, Professor." Hermione turned and walked away as she processed what the woman had said. She'd made it to halfway down the corridor when Sibyll Trelawney spoke again.

"It will happen tonight …."

"I'm sorry, what …?" Hermione said as she turned back. Then, she gasped and froze in shock.

Trelawney's eyes had gone white, and her hair whirled about her head as if it had come alive. A sudden wave of unnatural coldness washed over Hermione, and she found herself unable to move.

All she could do was bear witness.

It will happen tonight.
With all obstacles removed,
the Prince will claim the Throne of Basalt and Silver.
Though he is blameless, yet shall his actions be
as the beating of the butterfly's wings
as they unleash the mightiest hurricane.

By his choices shall the greatest of the Dark Lord's servants
be freed and the circle forged anew.
The Dark Lord will be reborn in all his terrible glory.
Betrayal. Blood. Terror. Destruction. Death.
And finally, the Cold Flame that consumes all.

Until at last, the Question is asked, and the Decision is made:

Our story has been told before. But will it ever be told again?

"Wh-what did you say?" Hermione finally said in a fearful voice. Meanwhile, the woman's hair finally settled down, and her eyes returned to their normal color. She blinked a few times before noticing Hermione still standing before her.

"I said good fortune, my child. Now then, run along with you, and enjoy your holidays!"

"… th-thank you, Professor. Y-you as well."

As the Divination instructor turned back towards the ladder to her classroom, Hermione slowly turned and continued down the hall. As soon as she made it around the corner, she broke out into a run.

Twenty minutes later …

"Our story has been told before. But will it ever be told again?" Harry repeated thoughtfully. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm sure I've no idea, Harry," Hermione said testily. "If you'll recall, I thought Divination was complete fakery until today! What do you think it means?"

Harry grimaced as he considered the first lines of this new Prophecy – the part about the Prince claiming the Throne of Basalt and Silver, which was a disturbingly accurate description of the Hydra Throne.

"It's okay, Hermione. I think it ties in with … the Something-Something. But I know what it is. And … I know how to avoid it. I'll make sure this Prophecy doesn't come true."

"Just like that?" Hermione asked dubiously. "You know how to avert a True Prophecy?"

"Yes," Harry answered ruefully. "Because here's the thing. In the prior timeline, Trelawney didn't give this Prophecy! Or if she did, you never revealed it to me, which seems unlikely, all things considered. You told me I might lose something important as a price for coming back. But if she didn't make the Prophecy before, then it must be something I didn't have and wouldn't be getting in that timeline. That can only mean one thing."

He faced Hermione with a look of fierce determination. "And while I'm not happy about it, it's a sacrifice I'm prepared to make."

The Prince's Lair
3:30 p.m.

"And so here we are. In the past day, I have learned of not one but two True Prophecies that indicate my becoming Prince of Slytherin might be a triggering event for some kind of dreadful wizarding disaster. And I cannot in good conscience risk something like that. I want you to know that I am grateful, truly grateful for the opportunities you have given me since we first met, particularly since I know I am so much younger than most applicants. Your counsel and encouragement have been invaluable to me. And more than anything, I wanted to prove myself worthy of your faith in me. To be worthy to sit on the Throne. To have the chance to serve Slytherin House as the Founder would have wanted. But Salazar Slytherin himself would have agreed that there are some things more important than personal ambition. I cannot pursue the role of Prince if doing so risks the future not just of the House but of … everything. And so, with the utmost respect, I hereby formally withdraw my name as a candidate for Prince of Slytherin and renounce my claim to the Hydra Throne."

A heavy silence fell as the nine heads of the Hydra Throne regarded the boy. Despite his best efforts, he could not begin to guess what the serpents were thinking nor how they would respond to his announcement. Even Delilah simply stared at him with an expression more serious than he'd ever seen on the loquacious Boomslang before. Finally, Rajah spoke.

"You are resolved upon this course of action? You will not reconsider?"

"I will not," Harry answered.

"Then leave us," the great Basilisk said coldly.

Harry nodded and looked around the room to take in the sight of it before leaving the Prince's Lair for what he assumed would be the last time.

Severus Snape's personal laboratory
4:30 p.m.

Peter stuffed the complete formula for Damocles Belby's Wolfsbane Formula into his coat pocket along with the sample meant for Remus Lupin, which the Animagus had transferred to an unbreakable glass vial. Then, he turned back to Severus Snape who sat tied to a chair, his eyes glassy with Veritaserum, for one final question.

"Tell me, Snivellus, with the stuff you currently have on the boil in here, what ingredients do you have lying around that I could add to a potion that would produce deadly toxic fumes while giving myself time enough to get away?"

"The Potion of Dreamless Sleep in the third cauldron. Dump the aconite in and turn the burner up to maximum. When the potion comes to a boil, it will be quite deadly to any who breath the fumes."

"Thank you, Snivellus. It's always good to receive advice from a true professional."

Then, Pettigrew stunned Snape once more before following his directions to the letter. In the floor nearby was a sluice grate for pouring out failed potions. The bars were too close for a person to fit through, but just the right size for a rat.

The Hogwarts Foyer
5:00 p.m.

Harry was headed to the Great Hall for dinner when he caught sight of Marcus Flint standing in the foyer. Flint made brief eye contact with him before heading out the main door. Cautiously, Harry followed. Sure enough, Flint was waiting for him on the front porch of the castle.

"What is it?" Harry asked. "I figured you'd already be in London by now."

Flint looked around carefully. "Something came up that I needed to talk to you about. It involves Peter Pettigrew … and Professor Snape!"

Harry stared at the other Slytherin. "… go on," he said cautiously.

" I just saw both of them heading that way." Flint frowned while pointing around the side of the building. "Well, I say together. Snape was walking in front with Pettigrew close behind."

Harry studied the older Slytherin for a moment. "Show me," he finally said.

Once around the corner, Harry saw there was no sign of Pettigrew or Snape, but in the distance, he could see the Whomping Willow. With a sick feeling in his stomach, he noticed that it was stilled for once, but it began to thrash around when he drew close. Harry took a deep breath.

"Okay," he said. "There's a way to calm the tree down and also to open up a secret passage at the bottom. But what is it?"

"There's a knot at the bottom you have to either press or hit with a Stunner," Flint supplied.

Harry tensed. "How did you know …?"

"STUPEFY."

Later in the Shrieking Shack …

Harry woke after being Renervated, and he was completely unsurprised to find himself tied up and wandless in the Shrieking Shack. The surprise came when he noticed in whose company he now found himself. Peter Pettigrew was present, looking down at him with a sneer. Marcus Flint stood nearby with a vacant expression. But this time, James Potter was nowhere to be found.

Instead, he was joined by Jim and Lily Potter.

"Uh-oh," he muttered quietly as he suppressed his sudden worry over this new scenario.

"Uncle Pete?" Jim said groggily. "What's … what's going on?"

"What's going on, Jim," Lily Potter said coldly, "is that your godfather is betraying us! Again!"

"Ah, you've recovered your memories, I take it?"

"Not yet," she spat. "But the Headmaster told me about the proof against you that the Aurors discovered, and he also broke the spell that hid your Memory Charm from discovery. I was looking for Jim to warn him when you caught me."

"How did you get her and Jim here anyway?" Harry interrupted. "I know you Imperiused Marcus and sent him after me."

"Jim helpfully agreed to meet with me and let me borrow the Potter Cloak, at which point I stunned him and brought him here. Then, I used it to pay a little visit to Severus Snape before going after Lily. Along the way, I saw Marcus Flint preparing the leave the school, and I knew he'd be an ideal catspaw for capturing you. Easy Peasy!"

"Peter?" Lupin said weakly from across the room. "What … you drugged me?"

"Yes, my friend, I did. Though I promise it was for your own good … Remus." Pettigrew stopped abruptly in surprise.

"How interesting! I can say Remus's name! I know Jim here knew the Secret, and I'm not surprised to learn that Lily knew it. But I'm curious as to how you found out, Harry."

"Slytherin cunning," Harry deadpanned. Peter snorted in response.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on?!" Jim exclaimed.

"Sure, Jim," Harry spat angrily. "Your godfather's the bad guy." Then, he glanced at Pettigrew's arm with a speculative expression. "I bet you even have a Dark Mark you've been concealing all these years."

Pettigrew smirked before taking off his jacket and rolling up his sleeve. "Long ago, I made a choice. And I have never once regretted it."

As he spoke those last words, a tattoo of the Dark Mark slowly materialized on his arm. Jim gasped in shock, while Lily just glared.

"You … you were a Death Eater?" Remus said disbelievingly.

"Yes, Remus," he said smugly. "And it's a good thing for you I was! You were a decent spy, but not a great one. At my request, however, Fenrir Greyback overlooked your lapses and ensured that none of the other werewolves ever found you out."

His expression changed to one of genuine affection. "You're my best friend, Remus, and I would never have let you come to harm."

"Obviously, you didn't feel that way about James, did you Peter?" Lily said. "If what Albus said is true, you were our Secret Keeper back in 1981. And you led Voldemort right to us. So much for the Marauders' bonds of friendship!"

Pettigrew flinched at Voldemort's name, but his expression grew into an amiable grin at the mention of friendship.

"Truth be told, Lily," Peter said, "The Marauders were never friends. Not really. Remus and I were friends. James and Sirius were friends, albeit in a mutually self-destructive way. I honestly don't think James Potter ever really had anything even close to a genuine friend or would even know what a real friend was if he'd had one."

He crooked an eyebrow at Lily. "To be honest, I could never understand what you saw in him. Or did you finally wake up and notice how much money he had?"

"Stop it, Uncle Pete!" Jim shouted as he grew increasingly distraught. Harry interrupted before Peter could respond in order to keep the conversation on a familiar track.

"How did you become Secret Keeper, anyway?"

"It was quite easy," Peter said merrily. "I tricked Sirius into thinking that I was the best choice for Secret Keeper because no one would suspect a 'pathetic little weakling' like me. And then, Sirius persuaded both James and Lily to make the switch to me without telling anyone else. It was all I could do not to laugh. Of course, I had to improvise quickly when Jim here vanquished the Dark Lord. Luckily, I had a supply of the Unspeakable Potion I'd gotten from Mr. Nemo to hide the Memory Charms I cast on both of your parents."

He turned to Lily. "I gather Albus has already revealed that little trick, hasn't he, Lily. Oh well." Then, he laughed cruelly. "You and James could have handled Remembralls every day for a hundred years and never detected my alterations. After that, I just counted on James's natural vindictiveness! Heh! You should have seen the look on Sirius's face when he realized what I'd done!"

Peter shook his head as if recalling a fond memory while Jim and Remus looked on in shock.

"And then," Harry continued, "after you helped send Sirius to Azkaban, you kept on manipulating James. Getting him to finance your Law Mastery. To make you Seneschal and Proxy for House Potter. To give you more influence over The-Boy-Who-Lived."

"Quite so, Harry. It was easy. Your father's very gullible, after all. And by that point, I was the only friend he had left to stand beside him after Sirius's 'shocking betrayal.'"

"No! That's insane!" Remus sputtered. "You were a good person. I know you weren't faking that during all the years of our friendship. I cannot believe that you would abandon the Marauders and turn evil over something like that."

"But you see, Remus, that's the thing!" Pettigrew said excitedly. "That's what I learned! What I need to make you understand! That there is no good! There is no evil! There is only …."

"Power," Harry interrupted snidely. "Power and those too weak to seek it."

Peter's eyes rose in surprise. "You're familiar with that saying?"

Harry gazed intently at the betrayer and recalled how the conversation had flowed the last time. He wasn't sure how things would play out with the unexpected cast changes, but he would need to guide events as closely as possible to the prior timeline if everyone was going to make it out alive.

"Yeah, it's the motto of Emeric the Evil. Voldemort himself quoted it to me when I was a First Year, just a few minutes before Jim here set him on fire. And I'll say to you what I said to your Lord: Did you know that those were among Emeric's last words just before his execution?"

Peter's face darkened almost angrily. But then, the anger passed, and he suddenly grinned infectiously. "Why yes, Harry, I did indeed know that!"

Then, he tilted his head and pointed a finger at the boy. "And since we're trading trivia questions about the greatest Dark Lord in history – did you know that Emeric the Evil … had a daughter?"

"… go on."

Peter began to pace around the room as if delivering a lecture.

"While Emeric Belasco was being frog-marched through the Veil of Death by people who weren't fit to polish his wand – literally or figuratively – Lucretia Belasco was fleeing the country with as much gold and dark objects as she could fit into an expanding bag, along with all of Emeric's grimoires. She made her way to Bavaria under a false identity and married her way into a prominent wizarding family by the name of Kleinwuchs."

He looked around expectantly. "Anybody recognize that name from Binns's boring lectures?"

Harry said nothing, but Remus and Lily both looked up at Pettigrew in horror. "Peter … no … it can't be!" the werewolf said.

"Oh, I'm afraid it can, Remus. Under Lucretia's guidance and that of her carefully educated descendants, the Kleinwuchs family grew from minor Germanic nobility to one of the preeminent Houses in Europe … and one of the darkest. Their power lasted for centuries until the House was wiped out during the Grindelwald conflict. The last survivor was a dark wizard by the name of Gustav Kleinwuchs … who was also my grandfather!"

He looked around the room. "Anyone recognize that name?"

"Gustav Kleinwuchs," Harry recited calmly. "Grindelwald's highest-ranking lieutenant. AKA the Butcher of Silesia and the Death Wolf. A notoriously deranged war criminal. He was believed to have died at Dresden, but I suppose that was too much to hope for."

"Indeed," Peter replied. "Most of the Kleinwuchs family died in that attack, but Gustav and his youngest son survived. Gustav had truly only served Grindelwald because he believed Grindelwald possessed the Elder Wand that had once been wielded by Emeric until his fall. He'd planned to betray Grindelwald and reclaim the family's greatest treasure when the time was right, but Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald before he had the chance. By that point, the Allied victory seemed inevitable, so he defected instead."

Harry's brow furrowed as a thought occurred to him "Defected to whom?"

"To whom. Heh. Good grammar. I appreciate that." Pettigrew said smugly. "And who do you think would help a wanted war criminal like Gustav Kleinwuchs emigrate to Britain and set him and his son up with fake identities? The Unspeakables, of course. They were willing to overlook his … indiscretions in exchange for all of his research notes from his work during the War."

Peter turned to Lupin. "I doubt Damocles Belby ever knew it, but the basis for that potion that you've been taking all these months was borne of my grandfather's work in the werewolf detention camps in Poland. In exchange for all that occult lore, the Unspeakables smuggled my grandfather and father into Britain and set them up with new identities: the Pettigrews, George and Martin, refugees from the evil Grindelwald's campaign of destruction. And to help them integrate into British wizarding society – and, I suppose, make sure my Grandfather didn't get any ideas they found objectionable – they assigned a young, newly-initiated Unspeakable by the name of Augustus Rookwood to be their handler."

Pettigrew barked out another laugh. "I'm told it took Grandfather less than two months to win Rookwood's loyalty away from the Unspeakables."

"And now, Rookwood's back in custody and on his way back to Azkaban," Harry said with grim satisfaction. "What a tragedy."

Peter glared at him angrily. "For the moment. I still don't know who the hell broke him out of Azkaban or why. But if he's back at DMLE headquarters, then by a stroke of luck, I know someone who can free him and bring him here. That is, if he ever wants to see his wife and sons again."

"My father will never help you!" Jim spat angrily even as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"We'll see, sport."

"What did you do to Professor Snape?" Harry interrupted suddenly. "I assume you went after him to get the Wolfsbane Formula."

Peter's eyes widened. "You are well-informed! Yes, I have the formula right here!" Pettigrew patted his coat pocket warmly. "Along with a sample of the potion."

He laughed again. "Intelligent werewolves. The Holy Grail of Emeric Belasco. All mine." He looked around the room. "I just want to thank you all. If James comes through with Rookwood for me, this may be the happiest day of my life! Ha! I may even learn to summon a Patronus of my own after this!"

"Oh, and to answer your question, I left Snivellus to die of a tragic potions accident." He sneered at Harry. "As you put it, what a tragedy."

"Why are you even telling us all this?" Harry asked, eager to move things along.

"Killing time, Harry. Among other things." He pulled out his pocket watch again to check the time. "You see, my watch appears to be running fast. I'd have thought that Remus would start to change already, but apparently not, so I've got time to kill."

With that last remark, Harry looked over to the horrified Remus Lupin who was beginning to sweat profusely.

"Peter, please! Don't do this! After all these years, don't make me a killer!"

"Ah, Remus. I'm doing this precisely because of how much I value our friendship. I know how much you've struggled pointlessly all these years. And it's so unnecessary! Once you finally give in and taste manflesh, you'll see. You'll finally be what you were meant to be! Emeric the Evil's greatest work. A flawless instrument of death!"

"You can't use us as hostages if you feed us to a werewolf, Uncle Pete," Harry said sarcastically.

"I don't plan to!" Peter answered with a laugh. "Or at least not unless James is too stubborn. When Remus transforms, I can control him. Emeric's blood flows in my veins, and the Beast in him will submit to my will. So, I'm going to contact James on our little two-way mirror communicator and make my demands. And if he shows the slightest hesitation, I'll start by having Remus start biting you, one after the other! Just enough to turn you!"

"PETER! NO!" Remus screamed in horror.

"And I'm pretty sure we'll be starting with you, Harry Potter," Peter added maliciously. "Because believe it or not, I really do care a great deal about my godson … and also because over the last three or so years, you have continually pissed me off!" He snorted contemptuously. "By the time I'm done with you, you'll have wished my little choo-choo train had gotten you like it was supposed to!"

"Th-that was you?!" Jim asked in shock.

"Yes," Peter said almost sadly. "I'm sorry it was necessary for you to get hurt that day. But I needed it to look as though you were the real target so that no one would suspect that the true objective was getting the prodigal Potter Heir out of the way."

"P-Peter!" Lily interrupted, her voice shaking. "Don't hurt the boys! Please! I'm begging you! If you must hurt one of us to get James to do as you want, make it me!"

Peter gave a belly laugh. "Is that what you told the Dark Lord, Lily? And how did that work out for everyone?" Then, his expression darkened. "But I'll tell you what, Lily. In gratitude over our long friendship, I'll make you this offer. If James does what I ask, neither boy will be harmed. If he won't play ball, then one of the Potter Twins gets a dose of lycanthropy to encourage him. I'll only let Remus turn you and your other son if he continues to defy me."

He knelt in front of the suddenly frightened witch. "But – and here's the deal – you get to pick which one it's going to be first! I mean, we both know James will probably be stubborn and stupid at least in the beginning. So, who do you want to save from the big bad wolf, Lily? The Boy-Who-Lived, the Savior of us all? Or the one you've already cast off and sent to be abused and locked in a boot cupboard for ten years because you didn't want him?"

Lily was speechless, her face a mask of horror at the choice she'd been offered.

"The clock's ticking, Lily. Who's it going to be?"

Hesitantly, Lily drew breath to speak, but before she could utter a word, Harry spoke up defiantly.

"You won't do it!" the boy said with a sneer.

"Oh, won't I?" Peter said as he shifted closer to Harry while still in a crouch. "And what makes you think that?"

"Because you're a rat, Pettigrew," Harry said, his voice dripping with contempt. "I don't know how you tricked the Hat into putting a pathetic little coward like you into Gryffindor, but I know you won't let Remus hurt us, let alone kill us! You don't have it in you to be a cold-blooded…!"

"AVADA …!"

"DUCK!" Harry screamed as he suddenly twisted and kicked at Pettigrew's leg, throwing off his aim. Across the room, Marcus Flint (who no longer looked the least bit glassy-eyed) flung himself down to the floor, the Killing Curse missing him by less than a foot, even as he pointed his own wand towards the Animagus.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" There was a flash of light that knocked Pettigrew onto his back and his wand up in the air. In a flash, Harry stretched his arms, and instantly, Pettigrew's wand flew into his open hands.

"FINITE INCANTATEM" he cried out, and his bonds swiftly melted away. Across the room, Flint, still lying prone, fired off a Stunner towards Pettigrew. But the Animagus was too fast. He rolled out of the way and then, in the blink of an eye, assumed his rat form before scurrying towards a nearby hole in the wall.

Instantly, Harry pulled himself up to one knee and took aim at the fleeing rat. He dilated for a single heartbeat, during which the rat was moving almost comically slow to his enhanced perceptions. Then, he released the dilation and cast his spell.

"HOMORPHUS REVERSO!"

There was another flash of light which struck the rat when it was less than a foot from the hole, and just like that, Peter Pettigrew was once again a man … who was flying headfirst towards a thick wall. With a crash, the betrayer slammed into the wall hard enough to put a noticeable dent in it. He fell back with a scream and then clutched his head which was now bleeding profusely. Harry rose and practically sauntered over to him, idly binding him with an Incarcerous as he did so.

"HOW?!" Pettigrew screamed even as blood poured down his face. "YOU'RE A BLOODY THIRD YEAR! HOW THE HELL COULD YOU POSSIBLY KNOW THE ANIMAGUS REVERSAL CHARM?!"

Harry smirked. "Proper planning prevents poor performance."

The Slytherin knelt by the restrained man and began rifling through his coat to retrieve everyone's wands. In the process, he found a familiar pair of handcuffs that Pettigrew had used on James before to prevent him from changing forms. With a smirk, Harry quickly bound the rat Animagus with them.

"You're finished, Pettigrew. These cuffs ensure you won't be able to change form again. Also, for the record, your plan was ridiculous, overcomplicated, and doomed to fail … which it now officially has."

And then, the boy leaned in and added in a vicious whisper. "I was planning on killing you, Pettigrew. But I think I prefer the idea of you growing old in Sirius Black's old cell instead."

Peter snarled angrily at the boy, but Harry just grinned at him smugly before rising and heading towards the others. Marcus was in the process of freeing Lily and Jim from their bonds. Jim was completely shellshocked, but Lily could only look at Harry with a guilt-ridden expression.

Harry hesitated. He had interrupted his mother before she could be forced to declare which of her sons would be cursed with lycanthropy for Peter's sick amusement. But he felt certain that she would have once again chosen Jim over him, though at least he was spared hearing it. And he certainly didn't want to discuss the matter here and now.

"Harry …."

"Let's … save the conversations until we're out of here, okay … Mum?"

"Yes, let's!" added Marcus with a strangled expression. "What with the werewolf about to change and all!"

Harry looked over to Flint and was taken aback. The other Slytherin was looking at Remus with undisguised hatred. Which was to be expected given who "Flint" really was.

Earlier …

"Okay," Harry said slowly while discreetly letting his wand fall into his hand. "There's a way to calm the tree down and also to open up a secret passage at the bottom. But what is it?"

"There's a knot at the bottom you have to either press or hit with a Stunner," Flint supplied.

Harry tensed and readied himself. "How did you know …?"

"STUPEFY."

In a blur of motion, Harry whirled around and batted the Stunner away before firing off one of his own at the older Slytherin. Marcus Flint slumped to the ground. Harry exhaled slowly and then looked around to see if anyone had seen the brief and one-sided duel. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his communication mirror.

"Regulus! It's Harry! I need you to come to Hogwarts, right now!"

Now …

Unfortunately, while Reg's deception had fooled Pettigrew completely, Harry was now suddenly reminded of the younger Black's intense emotions where the topic of werewolves was concerned. He took a quick glance at his watch. They still had a moment or two before Remus's transformation, but it would be close.

"Get my mother and Jim out of here, Marcus! Now!"

With that, he ran back to Pettigrew for the Wolfsbane Potion vial, as well as the Belby formula and the note containing the Secret.

"Remus! I have your potion!" He stood and pulled the stopper ready to rush it over to Lupin, but with an angry roar, Pettigrew twisted his whole body to kick his legs against Harry hard enough to trip him and knock him down. To the boy's dismay, the Wolfsbane Potion spilled out all over the floor.

"Dammit!" he cursed.

"Haha! One good kick deserves another, brat! Emeric's blood flows through my veins. And the Beast inside every werewolf will always recognize its master … even by scent!

"NO, PETER!" Remus yelled through his sobs. "I WON'T DO IT! WHATEVER IT TAKES, I WON'T HURT ANYONE!"

"YOU WILL, REMUS! CHANGE! CHANGE NOW AND KILL THEM ALL!"

"STUPEFY!" Harry screamed at the Animagus, and Peter slumped to the floor. But it was too late.

Nearby, Remus Lupin screamed as his eyes turned to amber. And then, those screams turned to howls of mindless rage as his muscles started to bulge and his jaw cracked and distended into a muzzle full of long, sharp teeth. To Harry's horror, the transformation was somehow taking place even faster than in the prior timeline. Across the room, Lily was trying to force Jim out the door to the tunnel while training her wand on the werewolf, but the Boy-Who-Lived was transfixed by the sight of it. "Marcus" simply stood his ground with his wand pointed at Remus and fire in his eyes.

As the werewolf ripped free from both his bonds and his clothes, the Metamorphmagus's face twisted into a mask of boundless rage as Regulus Black was mentally transported back to a different shack on the other side of the world where he'd once faced down his wife and son's killers.

"AV– …!"

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Even though Harry was still on the floor, his Disarming Jinx blasted Reg's wand from his hand before he could complete the Killing Curse, knocking him back against the wall in the process. But the flash of light from Harry's wand drew the werewolf's attention. The Beast snarled, saliva pouring from its mouth, and it turned in his direction before charging towards its prey. Harry dilated instantly.

Unfortunately, this time, the werewolf was closer than before. And this time, Harry was lying on his side with his wand pointing in the wrong direction. Even dilating, Harry knew that he would not have time to get a spell off, not even a Parselmagic Sectumsempra if he were willing to kill Remus Lupin a second time. This time, as Harry stared into the glowing amber eyes of the bloodthirsty werewolf, he knew he only had one possible chance.

So, he took it.

"LEGILIMENS!"

Next: Into the mind of a werewolf! Plus, Lily makes her moves, and Harry has a much anticipated conversation with James, followed by two more conversations he wasn't expecting at all.

AN1: Check out the Sinister Man's web presence on the POS wiki, the POS TV Tropes page, and my Discord server (through which you can see advance previews of this story as it is begin written). Also, the Sinister Man would be profoundly grateful if you checked out my P*****n page and supported my original fiction. Patronage is not necessary to get the free POS previews via Discord.

AN2 (What the Sinister Man is reading):

Hermione Granger and the Missing Friend by Ian Hycrest. In which Harry disappears over the summer after 4th year, and Hermione has to step up.

The Boy Who Lived by Gatalicious. In which an 11-year-old Harry starts at Hogwarts and his horrified to learn what the Boy Who Lived really means – in a world where Voldemort killed every other magical child in his age group.

A Family's Assistance by Tangerine-Alert (author of Lawyers Against the Cup and the Extradition stories). In which Harry is so desperate to avoid the Triwizard Tournament that he goes to Draco for help.

AN3: Special thanks to my Discord editors:

ACI100Anne-athema Codex, BlueWater5, HeidiWolf, JenniferWeasley, jobber, LFGB, Luc the Virtual Arm Twister, Mr. Yarrow Dread Ellen Ink, Marq., Pivosh, ProgKingHughesker, RameseZwei, sielk, sfu, sigurd, TNT, TzarDeRus, and ZombeyUnicorn42. Thanks guys!

AN4: Vital Statistics: Reviews: 13,192. Followers: 14,189. Favorites: 12,367. Communities: 214. Discord followers: 2400! Go Team POS!